


our last summer.

by LoserEddie



Category: Ghostbusters (1984-1989; 2020), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, Gen, Ouija, even though they like are barely shown in school, the haunting of hill house is mentioned so fucking much, this all comes in later chapters btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25482724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoserEddie/pseuds/LoserEddie
Summary: “You know, I thought you guys were nut-cases at first,” Winston said, “but this? This is amazing.”“Glad you decided to join the geek squad, pal.” Peter replied.------they're kids and they're in middle school because i've been thinking about this idea for days now. also it starts off in seventh grade but like after summer they're in eighth so that's fun
Relationships: Janine Melnitz/Egon Spengler (if you squint)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. what had been done with all those wasted summer days?

“And this is Ray Stantz. He’s the kid that sucked his thumb until he was six,” Peter explained, “I think you two will get along swimmingly.”

Egon loathed kids his age. If their lack of maturity weren’t the worst of it, certainly boringness would be. How he bonded with Peter, that’s something he could never decipher, but there was no doubt in his mind he had some odd friends. Now all he could ask, was why he chose this one in particular. Ray didn’t seem all that bad, though he really didn’t appear to be the type of person to socialize with someone like Peter, either.

“Don’t listen to Venkman, that’s just some rumor from fifth grade. It’s nice to meet you.” Ray offered his hand.

Though wary of initiating socialization, Egon eventually fought back his nerves and returned the handshake. “It’s fine. When we first met, I was looking for fungi in his backyard, and he thought I was trying to get high.”

“Why were you looking for fungi?”

“An experiment required them. Science class barely went into the topic, so I started my own research.”

“Hey, I did the same thing for our metallurgy study!”

“You actually know what that is?”

“Sure I do! It was my favorite subject, even if we barely covered it in class.”

And off they went, rambling about sciences that, while fascinating, Peter had heard about hundreds of times before. Even if his friends prided themselves on being complex individuals, he knew them like the back of his hand, a fact he prided himself on. The realization of just how perfectly these two would bond came to him as soon as Ray began discussing his own interest in what Peter coined that “nerd stuff”.

Well, calling the two “nerds” could certainly be considered hypocritical, since Peter thought of himself as quite the genius as well. While not as passionate about it as Egon and Ray, he knew he had some “geeky” qualities of his own, masking his interest in their latest experiments with sarcasm and humor. So as they ranted with wide smiles (okay, maybe not so much on Egon’s half, but he at least had a smirk, so that’s progress), Peter basked in his last moments of freedom. Because, from here on out, their friend group would be smarty-pants central, and he was stuck in the middle of it.


	2. to learn what we fear is to learn who we are.

The first time Ray ever found anything useful in the library was when he stumbled upon The Haunting of Hill House. He spent days flipping through the novel, eyes glued to each word as he allowed himself to be trapped in this horrific world. By the last page, he found himself chilled to the bone. Yet, that wasn’t all.

No, he was fascinated. A work of fiction had so greatly altered his reality, and still, he would never be more grateful. His mind could only run rampant with different theories as he raced to Egon’s home. Knocking rapidly on the front door, he leaned to peek through each window, only standing straight when the door opened.

“Ray, you’re going to get hypothermia if you keep on forgetting your jacket.” Egon insisted, though his words fell upon deaf ears as Ray shoved past to step inside.

He sat himself on the kitchen counter, one hand reaching for a juice box from the cabinet as the other patted the surface beside him. Staring at the worn cover, the only reassurance of Egon climbing to sit next to him was the comment that followed.

“I never knew you were interested in gothic horror.”

“Oh, I wasn’t. Not until now, at least.” Ray frantically flipped through the pages, searching and searching until he came to an abrupt stop, and pointed to a sentence. “Read this.”

“‘And there was now a swift movement up and down the hall, as of an animal pacing back and forth with unbelievable impatience, watching first one door and then another, alert for a movement inside, and there was again the little babbling murmur which Eleanor remembered; Am I doing it? She wondered quickly, is that me?’”

“Do you get it?”

“The importance? No. It’s magnificent writing, but not urgent enough to pay an unexpected visit an hour before my parents arrive home from work. Still, explain.”

“Well, I think it applies to us, all of us- humankind, I mean. Everyone’s felt strange in a certain room for no particular reason, or has gotten a sudden chill in an otherwise warm area, but we always excuse it, don’t we? It’s second nature. I’ve been thinking, Spengs… maybe it’s not just our minds playing tricks on us. There could be more to life than we think..”

Egon’s eyebrows furrowed, and he couldn’t resist shifting closer to the book as he, too, began to examine the page. “You’re saying the possibility of an existence after death is more probable than we thought?”

“That’s exactly it! We could be onto something big here! You think we should tell Venkman at school tomorrow?”

“This is more important than our average lunchroom conversations. The house phone is in the hallway. Call Peter and tell him it’s urgent.”


	3. fear is the relinquishment of logic, the willing relinquishing of reasonable patterns

When Peter pictured the last few weeks of summer break, he didn’t see himself in a pitch black room with only a candle, a Ouija board, and two of his best friends. Yet, there he sat, arms crossed as Egon and Ray chatted amongst themselves. They tried to rope him into the conversation every so often, wondering if he had any questions for whatever ghost may answer them. After he eventually asked, “Can I ask if it wants to date?” they gave up on getting his input.

He never believed this paranormal junk, honestly. Sure, he admired his friends’ passion for it, but the whole thing seemed kind of phony. All these “ghost-hunting” products were just a way to get cash from impressionable kids that needed something more to be out there. Of course he pitied them for falling into the trap, who wouldn’t?, but he never dared to mention it. In all honesty, it helped distract him from everything, too.

He watched as Ray struck a match on the wooden floor, brown eyes staring into the fire with a concentration that Peter had only seen during metallurgy studies. Carefully, he lit the nearby candle, and for a moment, the world felt as if it had stopped. The three boys watched the flame waver in silence. Finally, Ray and Egon gave each other a nod, and looked at Peter.

“Venkman, we’d like you to be the medium,” Ray said.

“Alright, you’ve lost me. What the hell is a medium?” Peter asked, eyeing them both, “If it means I’m the one getting possessed, you guys can get packing, ‘cause I’m not interested.”

“You’re the one that has to ask the board all of the questions. But don’t worry, we already got some for you. Pass him the list, Spengler.”

Egon pulled a sheet of paper from behind him, and Peter hardly resisted the urge to laugh at the formality of it all. Instead, he took the sheet and gave it a once-over. Pretty dumb questions to be asking something that might not even exist, but hey, he could play along. Judging by Ray’s giddy grin and Egon not appearing as dead inside as usual, they actually seemed pretty excited- and it’s not like he’s heartless. He wouldn’t tear them down when they were this happy.

From then on, he followed their lead, unaware of what had to happen before the questions began. It started with touching that heart thing- or, the “planchette”, as they called it. The name seemed way too complicated for him, but he’d let it slide. Next, they apparently had to, as Ray put it, make sure Peter “understood the rules”. Kind of stupid, isn’t it? He already knew everything necessary: don’t insult the “ghost”, don’t ask “stupid” questions, and don’t tell it to kill you. What else would he need to know?

Finally, his time had come to truly shine. He glanced towards the paper on his lap and said, “Alright, ghosty, we’ll start you off easy. What’s your name?”

Annabelle. 

Huh, kind of plain. He had been hoping for something like “Desir” or “Aeran”. Of course, he couldn’t disrespect a woman, it just wasn’t in his nature. Actually, he planned on doing quite the opposite.

“So, be honest, do you think I’m hot?”

“Venkman!” Ray shouted, fighting back his giggles by presenting an angry tone.

“Let the lady answer the question, Ray! Come on, I might have a shot!”

No.

“Well, that’s a bit rude, don’t you think? I mean, you’re dead, you can’t be hot shit, either.” Even with both Ray and Egon’s protests to apologize, Peter continued. “Next question, did you have a job?”

No.

“Ask if it died young.” Ray said, gaze never leaving the board.

“Did you die young?”

No.

“Did you have a family?”

No.

“Jeez, you’re a Negative Nancy. Do you wish any harm upon us?”

Yes.

Though he couldn’t quite understand why in the moment, Peter’s heart began to race. He looked to Ray and Egon for reassurance, and when he was met with wide-eyed expressions, he had no choice but to turn back to the board. The questions written on the paper meant nothing to him now. Taking a deep breath, he set the list to the side and asked, “Where are you?”

B-e-h-i-

They didn’t get past “i” before two screams filled the air, and like that, Ray and Egon were off and running. All it took was Peter turning around for him to understand the sudden chaos. His eyes locked on two pale, boney legs, long nails on thin fingers, a shredded dress, and finally, a blank face. Not blank in Egon’s fashion, with an empty gaze and unfaltering frown. No, there was only skin. Sheet white skin.

And he just booked it. No care came for the objects left behind, not even the three school bags propped against the walls. For before he could process where he was going, he began to run, as if his life depended on it. Which, in his mind, it honestly did. So caught up in the adrenaline, he could only hope for an escape from- well, whatever that was. He only snapped back to reality as his body collided with something unknown. Unknown for a while, at least.

“Venkman!” Ray grabbed his shoulder, mouth agape. “We didn’t think you’d make it! How’d you fight it off?”

Peter, thoughts continuing to race, could barely think of a response. “I just- I just ran, I guess. What the hell was that thing?”

“A real life ghost! At least, I think so. And we almost made physical contact with it! This could be great for our research! We’ve gotta try that again.”

“Are you serious? First you make me go to some abandoned, bug-infested cabin, then you ditch me with what you call a ghost, and now you wanna head back in for round two! What are we supposed to do if it catches us?”

“Peter’s right,” Egon said, and for a moment, Peter’s dreams of ending this summer on a calm note became a possibility once again. Not like that’d last very long, of course. When it came to Ray and Egon, nothing could be normal, not even something as simple as the paranormal. “We’ll need more help if we want to try anything. Ray, we can start working on equipment next weekend. Peter, you need to find someone else to join the team when classes start.”

“Why do I have to be involved?”

“Defeating an actual spirit could boost your popularity in school. Maybe then you would get a real girlfriend.”

“You’re the worst, Spengs. Alright, fine, I’m in. Who do I have to hire?”

“Another teammate to assist with spirit termination, and someone to be our lookout. We may occasionally have to break into private property, we can’t afford to get caught.”

Great, now Peter would be a criminal. His father would be proud of this one, wouldn’t he? The rest of the day had been spent watching the cabin burn down from the abandoned candle, and when the sun set, the three boys parted ways. Egon went home to study, Ray went home to read, and Peter went home to sleep. With what was to come, he would be needing it.


	4. whatever walked there, walked alone.

Janine Melnitz, at first glance, was an unassuming girl. She had been one of the shortest kids in class ever since kindergarten, and occasionally rolled her eyes at the teachers, but as long as she had good grades, no one really paid attention to her. Especially not Peter, who could scarcely remember the last time they spoke. So, as she sat down for her lunchroom interview, he expected things to go rather plainly. She’d answer a few questions, he’d shake her hand, bam, she’s hired.

Boy, was he wrong.

She didn’t give Peter much of a “hello”, only half-nodding her head in greeting as she took a bite of her ham and cheese sandwich. Peter, dully clicking his pen, sat with a dwindling amount of patience while she finished her food. He didn’t expect any eating to come until later, but hey, maybe she just forgot breakfast and wanted to get something in her system. There had been no dire need to speed through this interview, anyway.

“Do you always stare at people when they’re eating?” Janine asked, pushing her lunch tray to the side as she set her arms on the table.

“I can tell this is going to be a great interview.” Peter sighed and glanced towards his clipboard. Egon had provided him with a list of questions to ask potential employees, each written in a font that Peter could hardly decipher. If Egon’s dreams of becoming a scientist didn’t work out, he’d certainly fit in well with doctors. “So, Janine, why do you think you’d be a good lookout for the Ghost Smashers team?”

“Ghost Smashers?”

“We’re still working on the name, give me a break.”

“Well, I’m not a giant, unlike you, so I can actually go a while without being unnoticed. I’m also not as loud, or clumsy, or overall obnoxious- need I go on?”

“Now I see why we never talk. Alright, do you believe in UFOs, astral projections, mental telepathy, ESP, clairvoyance, spirit photography, telekinetic movement, full trance mediums, the Loch Ness monster and the theory of Atlantis?”

“I don’t think I’d be signing up if I didn’t believe in any of it.”

“You’re not signing up. It’s a job interview, one you should be taking more seriously.”

“A job interview in a school cafeteria, where I’m trying to work for a group of boys that hunt ghosts in their spare time?”

Peter, giving one last roll of his eyes, held out his hand. “You’re hired. Find another potential teammate to interview before dismissal, and welcome to the team.”

\---

Peter realized a tad too late that he should have been more specific about who he would consider hiring. Zipping up his backpack, he watched Janine drag an unknown, and rather confused-looking, boy to his desk. How he had never met this student before, well, he would soon find out.

“This is Winston Zeddemore, just moved here last week.” Janine stole a seat from another desk and forcibly sat him down in it. “Winston, this is Peter Venkman, he’ll be your employer.”

“Potentially.” Peter said. “Alright, Winston, first thing’s first, do you have any prior commitments that could limit your availability to the Ghost Smashers team?”

“Ghost Smashers?” Winston asked.

“He’s still working on the name, give him a break.” Janine mocked.

“Oh, uh- no, I don’t think so, unless I need to help my dad at work.”

“Really? What’s your dad do for a living?”

“He runs a construction company.”

“Boring.”

Janine rolled her eyes and took the clipboard from Peter. “Do you believe in UFOs, astral projections, mental telepathy, ESP, clairvoyance, spirit photography, telekinetic movement, full trance mediums, the Loch Ness monster and the theory of Atlantis?”

“Will I get hired if I say yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then, sure, I’ll learn to.”


	5. live there all alone.

Egon’s heartbeat quickened each time his foot reached another step. The stairs creaked under the pressure and, even though he knew full well his parents wouldn’t be home for hours, he still feared the worst was to come. Any moment now, that door could click open. They would catch him right in the act, breaking one of their most enforced rules yet:

Entering the basement.

Behind him creeped Ray, breath hitching at every sudden sound that came from upstairs, whether it be the chirp of a bird or gentle buzzing from the refrigerator. He clutched the walkie talkie in his hand so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Honestly, it wasn’t that he was scared for his own safety - they couldn’t punish a child that wasn’t theirs, after all - but instead, for Egon’s. He had never heard the full story of what occurred at the Spengler residence, all he had been told was that Egon tended to be left to his own devices. At least, that was Peter’s telling of it.

“Hey, at least we finally get to have a look around this place, huh?” Ray said, a subconscious attempt to distract himself from his worries.

Egon paused, and soon, Ray understood why; they had reached the last step. This would be the point of no return, in a way. Sparing Ray one last glance, he stepped onto the basement floor. And what followed was… odd, to say the least. Instead of keeping his rigid demeanor, his shoulders drooped. He looked up the stairs, looked around, then pressed on. Ray could only process the shift for a few moments before hurrying after him.

“Are… you okay, Spengler?” He asked.

“I’m shocked to say it, but, yes,” Egon admitted, “I assume a part of me genuinely believed there would be deadly consequences if I ever step foot down here. It’s, oddly, rather relieving.”

“Huh.” And with that realization dawning upon Ray as well, he felt his own nerves begin to cool. “Any ideas on what we’re gonna make?” 

“I’ve been brainstorming. I have this idea of a sort of gun,” Egon explained, “which would release a charged particle beam that holds onto spirits. The problem is, I’m not exactly sure what we do with them from there.”

“You could trap them.”

“How?”

“Well, using the correct amount of energy, you could use the stream to drain the energy that ghosts use to manifest themselves, therefore weakening them enough to trap them in… in this sort of container, that’ll suck them in! And it could-”

“Wait a second, Ray.”

Egon dug through the drawers of a nearby desk until he retrieved a notepad and a pen. Facing Ray once again, he nodded, “Go on.”


	6. what fun it would be to stand out there and watch it burn down.

The day before their first capture was meant to be relaxing. At least, that’s what Winston had been told. Instead, the team sat on a picnic bench - some in the seats, some on the table - enjoying cones of ice cream. It sounded idyllic, but he would come to find that this would not be the case. All it took was one comment to send this group spiraling out of control.

“How long have you all known each other?” He asked, glancing between them.

“Well, I’ve known Ray for a year and a half now,” Peter said, “but Egon and I have been pals since we were in first grade. Did you guys know he’s a natural blond?”

Ray perked up. “He’s what?”

“You better believe it! He’s been dying his hair since he was nine. These ‘luscious’ brown locks are phony!”

As Egon buried his head in his hands, Peter ruffled his hair with a smirk. While Winston certainly had been enjoying the company of four new friends, he would have liked some warning about their, well, interesting personalities. The only one that seemed relatively normal was Janine, who had adapted to this absurdity much faster than he ever could.

Of course, he liked to think that could all change. After they captured the “ghost”, which he still hadn’t been convinced existed in the first place, maybe he’d be as kooky as the rest of the “Ghost Smashers”. God, he hated that name. The only perk had been all of the dirty jokes Peter made about it, but even that got old after a while.

“Have you come up with a name for our group yet?” Might as well bring it up, right?

And then came the spiral.

Egon had been the first to pipe up, saying, “I’ve been suggesting ‘Ghoststoppers’ for a while now.”

“We’re not calling it ‘Ghoststoppers’. At least ‘Ghost Smashers’ is funny. Yours is just dumb and boring.” Peter said.

“We’re not here for comedy, we’re here for ghosts.”

“The ghosts can enjoy a good sex joke every now and again. I mean, the afterlife can’t be that entertaining. It’ll probably be the most they’ve laughed in decades!”

“You want the things terrorizing the planet to find amusement in the very force working against them?”

“It’ll be easier to trap ‘em when they’re howling over our name! And hey, we can both agree it’s better than ‘Ghost Control’, right?”

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad!” Ray added, “It’s like pest control, but for ghosts! Now, that’s funny!”

“No, Ray, he’s right, if you can construct machines that scientists can only dream of, you could think up a more creative title.”

“See? And that’s exactly why ‘Ghost Smashers’ is the best name!”

“Venkman, it’s the worst name.”

“He’s also right.”

“We could just call it ‘Ghostbusters’.” Winston suggested.

Silence. Winston went to take another bite of his mint ice cream, before Peter patted him on the back- well, actually, it was more like a smack, that nearly sent him falling off of the table. Yet, he took it as a compliment; and for good reason, he’d come to discover.

“I always had a good feeling about you, Winston! Looks like we got a new genius on the team!” Peter smiled at Winston, then the others. “Told you he’d be a great fit.”

Janine rolled her eyes. “Sure, take all the credit.”

Albeit hectic, Winston had a good feeling about this team, and more specifically, about these people. He hadn’t expected to find friends that easily this school year, but now? Well, maybe he wouldn’t be as lonely as he thought.


	7. Chapter 7

While Ray was by no means self-loathing, he knew for certain that he had never been this proud. In other people’s hands, in his own hand, was something that he had made. Not some school science project that meant nothing to him, but an object that he truly felt passionate about. And judging by the small smile on Egon’s face, he hadn’t been the only one feeling that way.

Ray stuck the proton pistol in his pocket, rocking back and forth on his heels as he stood before the crisp remains of the cabin. The air smelled of forest pine, and the occasional gust of wind ran through piles of leaves. Tying his sweatshirt around his waist, he looked back at his fellow Ghostbusters. And the only thing he could think to himself, was how spectacularly he would be spending his last year in middle school.

“Hey, Ray, quick question: how’d you and Egon get a hold of this sorta equipment?” Peter asked. He aimed the pistol at a nearby tree, mumbling firing sounds, before holstering it once again.

“We broke into his parents’ lab,” Ray replied, that usual giddiness clear in his tone, “you should’ve seen the stuff in there! If we had the place to ourselves, who even knows what could’ve been made!”

“Considering it was just you two? Weapons of mass destruction, or some geek crap. How’d you even come up with these things?”

“We like science fiction, we like building, it figured itself out. Besides, Egon grew up around it, he knows what he’s talking about.” 

As glad as Ray was to help in the project, he still knew that his companion understood the science behind it far more than he did. But, in a way, it worked out; he could handle construction, Egon dealt with functionality. 

“Alright, Ghostbusters,” Ray began to spin his pistol, and when it fell to the ground, he swiftly retrieved it and gave up on his attempt, “are we ready?”

A wave of nods came from behind. Ray crouched down beside the perfectly-intact Ouija board. With each boy crowded around it, they set their fingers on the planchette and glanced towards Peter.

Taking a moment to look each boy in the eyes, he finally said, “Annabelle, where are you?”

Like that, it felt as if they were back to summer. Three wide-eyed expressions turned to Peter, but now, they didn’t run. Instead, Peter turned, and let his hand linger over the proton pistol. His eyes locked with the blank face once more.

“I was right, you are ugly. And now? You’re gonna be toast!”

All it took was Egon shouting “Fire!” for four beams to strike the spirit. It rose in the air, writhing and thrashing, and Peter held back the urge to laugh in its face. Ray kicked the trap under it and stomped on the button. In a blink of the eye, Annabelle had vanished. All that could be heard then was heavy breathing. Until, finally, Ray lifted the trap to present it to the group.

“You got it?” Winston asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Ray smiled, and said, “We got it.”

What came next was a flurry of emotions. Peter grabbed the trap and held it high in the air, whooping and hollering as he swung an arm around Egon. Ray pulled Winston into a hug so tight he could hardly breathe, nearly lifting him in his pure excitement. They all relished in their victory, Peter even exclaiming that they’d be “the most popular kids in school after this”. 

That brought into question, of course, just how they would mention what they had done, and more importantly, what to do with the ghost. But Peter stated that this was no time to talk “business”, instead insisting that they should go celebrate. First, of course, they had someone else to tell.

“Janine, you’ll never believe it!” Ray raced past the maze of trees and skidded to a stop in front of Janine, the other Ghostbusters close behind.

“You got in over your head?” She said. Though, her gaze soon met with that of the trap, and she looked between them all. “So you actually did it? All of you?”

Ray nodded. With no hesitation, she ran straight into… Egon’s arms, who simply stood in that usual awkward stance of his. And for once, Peter didn’t even bother to think of a sly remark. Instead, he put his arms around Ray and Winston’s shoulders, and smiled. Not a smirk, as he practically did out of instinct these days, but an easy-going smile that radiated joy he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced before.

“You know, I thought you guys were nut-cases at first,” Winston took hold of the trap, “but this? This is amazing.”

“Glad you decided to join the geek squad, pal.” Peter replied.


	8. Chapter 8

And with success, came celebration. Ray offered to buy them all pizza at the local arcade, an offer they couldn’t refuse. So as he retreated home to ask his parents for money, the Ghostbusters climbed on their bikes and began their journey. 

Winston prided himself on being the fastest, practically leading them to the arcade as he raced forward. Peter would every so often shout out a remark, usually along the lines of, “slow it down, speed-racer!” or “who are you, Richard Petty?” Of course, while Winston sped down the street, Peter enjoyed the bike ride in his own special way.

His favorite pastime was cutting in front of Egon and slowing down, a game that almost resulted in Egon ramming his bike into Peter’s on multiple occasions. As much of a nuisance as Peter could be, in all honesty, Egon enjoyed his company. He hadn’t had many friends up until their meeting, so even if they loved to poke fun at the other, he never truly had any ill feelings. 

“Here we are, gang!” Peter exclaimed, tossing his bike onto a nearby dirt patch. He looked at the neon sign of the arcade with his hands on his hips. “I’m kind of royalty here, you know. I have the highest pinball score recorded in this place’s history.”

“We’ll see if that lasts,” It was a mumbled comment by Winston, certainly not one he expected to genuinely be heard.

“You wanna bet? Alright, Winston, you’re on!”

Peter and Winston took off towards the pinball machines, abandoning their friends in the heat of their competition. This left outside, of course, Janine and Egon. They only made occasional eye contact, as they preferred to keep their gazes on things that caused far less embarrassment, such as the sky. It was Egon to initiate going inside, with Janine trotting close behind.

The high energy tunes of Elton John and David Bowie echoed from various loudspeakers, each nestled in-between a wide variety of games. Boys and girls alike fired toy guns attached to machines, tossed skee balls up aisles, and, most prominently, circled around the recent addition of Pong. Curiosity getting the best of him, as it always had, Egon split from his path towards the concession stand and made a beeline for the machine.

He practically tore through the group of children that had gathered, intent on seeing just what the excitement was all about. Peering over the shoulder of a short, blonde girl, he watched- well, something rather unstimulating, frankly. A white circle bounced to and fro across the screen, like a ball would during a tennis match. And just as Egon was ready to complain of how boring it appeared to be, he felt himself be yanked back, something grasping at his arm.

“Those kids were getting ready to strangle you, you know.” Janine led him away from the crowd, until both stood in a quieter corner of the bustling arcade.

“At least that would provide some genuine entertainment,” Egon pushed up his glasses, as they had become crooked while he was pulled from the machine, “I don’t see why they’re so enraptured by something as simple as a black and white screen. Society has already moved past that.”

“You didn’t need to be up front to see it. Don’t you know that bothers people?”

“Obviously.”

At least, he liked to think he did. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he struggled when it came to these social interactions, even if he didn’t say a word to a single one of them. People in general confused him, each with their own complex personalities. With science, he could normally hypothesize the results of any experiment, but the same could never be said for humans. Even those he knew the best, he’d never fully understand them.

And it bothered him. Quite a lot, actually. Egon liked understanding. He had been taught that to know, was to be happy. That’s what he, subconsciously, centered his life around; raising his intelligence to boost his joy. So when he stumbled upon something he could never truly solve, it nagged at him. Even falsely interpreting a social cue, a common occurrence most considered unimportant, could haunt him deep into the hours of the night. 

In a way, by lying, and saying he did comprehend the basics of human interaction, it was his own attempt to distract himself from the truth: that he would never fully know the key to perfect socialization. Yet his parents insisted he’d capture proper communication skills once he matured more. It had been a promise for years. 

How much more could he mature?

All the while, Ray sat with a pizza box in his lap, swinging his legs back and forth under a red and black bar stool. Haunted House gunshots fired as children whooped and hollered. A small girl chased a boy across the arcade, comically spinning Ray’s seat as he passed. He clutched tighter onto the box and his gaze darted across the individual games. The pinball machines - at least, the few that were in eyesight - went unoccupied, not a friend to be seen. 

Him and Peter loved using the pinball machines, actually. They’d stand side by side, smirking at each other as they smashed buttons. Their last few coins, most of which came from their allowances, were spent on silly little arcade games, that even Ray could admit weren’t that special at all. He knew that the claw machines were rigged, and the Space Invaders matches were pointless, but something about the joy of simply being at the arcade motivated him to defeat Peter at any competition they may begin.

Being left to his own devices made him realize how truly overwhelming a place like this could be. In no time at all, he came to think of Egon- as mature as the boy may be, he could never handle places such as this. It worried him, more than he’d like to admit, for he was never one to get nervous over things like this. But as he acknowledged just how alone he was, it seemed that his usual cheerful nature would be set to change.

He took his walkie-talkie from his pocket, and, in a mumbled tone, asked, “Stantz to Spengler, do you read me?”

Met with silence, his stomach turned in knots even an eagle scout couldn’t fathom. The carpet’s wide array of colors mixed in disgusting shades, until, finally, Ray had to tear his gaze away. He didn’t like this feeling, the kind that had no name but was sure to always make itself known. It couldn’t be pushed away with deep breaths, a tactic he had been using for the past five minutes. 

What confused him most of all, was why he felt this way. When visiting with Peter, he loved everything about the arcade, from the greasy pepperoni pizzas to the free range of activities that always kept his mind in an active state. But alone, unaware of where any of his friends could be, he only felt as if he had the starting phase of a nasty flu. He turned his walkie-talkie on again and again, requesting each of his friends and getting no reply but his own nasty thoughts.

A tap on the shoulder sent him spinning around, all worries vanishing in the blink of an eye. Yet, when he only saw the features of an unknown girl, they crawled their way into his thoughts once again. She had been an odd-looking girl, with trim caramel hair and shamrock-colored eyes. She stood at a towering height, and if it weren’t for him soon noticing her black mens’ oxfords, he would have sworn she were in some sort of heels.

“Are you going to eat that pizza on your own?” She asked.

“Well, I was supposed to have it with my friends,” Ray took one last look around the arcade, “but I don’t expect them to show up any time soon. Wanna sit?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

The girl climbed onto a bar stool opposite of him, offering a smile that made Ray’s heart thump in a way it never had before. She drummed her candy-apple nails, a similar color to her plaid skirt, on the round, black table. If Ray had to be honest, the strangeness of her presence had been what intrigued him the most. He had never seen her in town before, especially odd considering they looked to be the same age, and the peculiarity of it all, really, allowed his mind to stray from that of his concerns for a moment or two.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” He asked, lost in eyes that spoke of tremendous journeys and intricate thoughts, the likes of which he would give anything to know.

She shrugged. “I haven’t met one yet, but I wouldn’t doubt them. There’s plenty of things in the universe that not many know of. One, of which, is your name.” 

“Raymond Stantz. And you’re-”

“Elaine.”

The name was so fitting, he should have predicted it. Not too simple, not too complex, but still holding well-kept secrets of its origin. He longed to understand them one day, to discover the truth of Elaine. It was a name that would never leave his mind, he was sure of it. And no last name, either- he liked that. Just another piece of the grandest puzzle.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new in town?”

“We never take up permanent residence, there’s too much to see.”

“We?”

“Are those your friends?”

He stared into her eyes a moment longer, searching for the answer that went unsaid in her words. Yet, they only acknowledged him with indifference; they couldn’t tell him, not now. So, still longing for more, he turned, hoping that at least one question would be resolved. When he saw his group of friends on the other end of the arcade, he spun around once again.

Face lighting up, he exclaimed, “That’s them! Jeez, you’ve got some great intuiti-”

Nothing but an empty seat remained. At first, Ray’s face dropped, but he felt as a small smile grew once again. This wouldn’t be the last of her, he knew it- not with a girl like that.


End file.
